


the harder the pain, honey, the sweeter the song

by cersc



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, Menstruation, Pre-Canon, Sibling Incest, Sick Character, Sickfic, Twincest, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 12:29:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20471060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cersc/pseuds/cersc
Summary: "Cersei gets sick and Jaime has to look after her." another prompt fill for my main bitches @ cl, because if you didn't think i personally would jump on this one, you were woefully wrong. sick!fluffy!j/c is my Favorite.





	the harder the pain, honey, the sweeter the song

“don’t come in.”

cersei will not accept visitors in this state. not even jaime — she knows he stands on the other side of the door by the pattern of the knock, a secret one devised in childhood so they would always know when the other was seeking them out. she does not want to be seen like this: hair held back in a tangled plait that has not been brushed out in two days, dark circles under her eyes and a faint sheen of sweat covering her skin, clad in a nightdress stained with moon’s blood and a little vomit at the neckline from when she was not able to reach the pail provided for such use in time.

this is not how a queen should appear_. _not to her subjects; not to her court; not even to her twin.

but he comes in anyway. she knew he would.

“sweet sister.” he closes the door behind him and looks at her for a moment, head tilted slightly to one side, eyes sliding from head to toe. usually, she likes that look. revels in it, even. now, it makes her want to pull her furs up over her head and hide. “how are you feeling?”

“how do i look like i’m feeling?” she asks, only a _little_ venomously.

“cersei.” he is more serious now. she can tell by the look in his eyes, the curve of his mouth — has always been able to read his face like a book. his weight brings her featherbed down on one side as he takes a seat upon it, setting down the tray he has brought along with him, and she adjusts her position accordingly. “if i didn’t know you were ill, i wouldn’t know you were ill.” she raises an eyebrow, and he laughs. “perhaps a little tired.”

“don’t lie to me, jaime,” she moans miserably. “i know i look a mess.”

the touch of his palm to her fevered cheek soothes almost as much as he likely meant it to. she nuzzles against it instinctively. “you are beautiful as ever, sweetling. _rosy_ cheeks, not flushed.” when he pulls back, he gestures to the tray lying between them on the bed. “and i’ve brought you a few things to help you feel that way, too.”

she eyes the array he has procured: three small vials of medicine or tonic, a slice of toasted, crusty bread with the slightest coat of butter on one side, a tiny sliver of peach tart, and a cool, clean, damp cloth. the latter, he lays gently across the back of her neck, sweeping her plait out of the way with one hand, and she must privately admit that it feels quite nice. “any better?” he asks. she shrugs, and she knows he knows she means yes.

“i also brought a bit of food. i know you don’t want it,” he adds when she groans and clutches her belly, “but you need to keep up your strength. even if you can only keep down a little. but this—“ and here, he holds up one of the vials, “—will help you keep down more. and the other two will ease your pain, and help you sleep.” he smirks; the last time robert was away and her blood was upon her, jaime eased her pain and helped her sleep in a _much_ different manner. “if only the king were hunting. i would have more to offer, then.”

“so you would,” she says, one corner of her mouth quirking upward. “but you’ve — you’ve offered quite a bit.”

“it’s the least i can do,” he says. he stands once more and leans in to kiss her, a long, deep kiss — he does not mind the sour, sick taste in her mouth. “now. i’ve got to go guard the bloody king. but send for me if you need anything else, mm?”

“might send for you anyway just to give you a reprieve.”

he laughs, and she follows in his stead, which turns his chuckle to a grin. “there’s the smile i’ve missed.” and that only makes her smile more. “get some rest, my love.”

and even when he has gone, she feels comforted by the faint taste of him left on her mouth.


End file.
